


Professional Relations

by MatildaSwan



Category: Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Adultery, Alcohol, Behind the Scenes, F/M, Fluff, Infidelity, Outside Canon, Porn, Random Unnamed Woman, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:16:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s TLC and a quick hand job in the car park.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Relations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ttoi kinkmeme prompt: Sexual education and a_writing_muse: research.

“This is like the porn film where the woman rings for a special advisor to give her an overview of the last five years of social policy and they end up fucking!”

Nicola doubled over, vision blurred, her frame shaking with laughter; hand still holding the curtain back to see into the car park. “Jesus, Ollie, that’s horrible,” she exhaled; breathing properly for what felt like the first time since this morning, since Ollie ran into the room flailing about Malcolm filching her people’s champion. She sighed and took a swig from the bottle she’d nicked from on top of the stupid tiny mini bar; relishing the tension in her shoulders seeping away. _I wouldn’t mind one of those calls, Lord knows I need it._

“Yeah, I know,” still looking out the window. “But it’s funny,” he turned, beaming down at her. For a second she thought she understood how he’d managed to pull that woman in Shad Cab; she blinked and it was gone. They turned back to Glenn attempting to close the deal.

“You’re right. Hey, looks like he’s making some head way. Oh, God!” Nicola gasped as her pun turned description. A fair amount of groping and possible unbuttoning was occurring and not just one sided. Whoever this woman was, she had one for Glenn. The woman slammed the door of the car before the two of them turned and headed towards the entrance of the hotel in somewhat of a hurry.

“Oh, my God! What if he’s bringing her back here? Jesus, he’s bringing her back here! Umm, maybe we should,” Nicola trailed off, jerking her head around the room.

“We should leave,” Ollie finished for her, humour gone from his tone, replaced with something close to panic; presumably caused by the mental images of Glenn actually having intercourse.

“Yes, absolutely!” practically falling over one another to grab their things and get out of Glenn room as quickly as possible. Nicola stubbed her toe as she vaulted past the bed to her jacket, Ollie wacked his knee on the arm chair grabbing his laptop; with a flurry of language they managed to get out of the room in time to see Glenn and his mystery woman getting out of the lift at the far end of the corridor

“Shit, my room!” Nicola snarled, grabbing Ollie’s elbow and hanging a left. “We won’t pass them that way.” Ollie gripped his computer to his chest and fluttered behind Nicola like a kite, before she smashed open her door and threw him inside. She slammed the door shut with her back and breathed, head lolling against the wood. She opened her eyes to Ollie doing his best impression of a deer in headlights. “What?” She really didn’t like the look in his eyes.

“Glenn is…he’s going to…he’s like a proper person? A proper person that has sex.” The thought was obviously doing Ollie’s head in, his face seemed to be stuck somewhere between absolute disgust and mirth.

Nicola blinked at him. “Yes, Ollie, even old people have sex,” he cringed, turning tail to plonk himself down in one of the chairs. Nicola burst out laughing again, hands on her knees to keep her from pitching head first into the carpet. Wheezing and wiping her eyes, she stumbled towards the bed, “You could use a drink, agreed?”

“God, yes!”

*

“I’ve never seen a less imposing run in my life!”

Nicola had her head in her knees and Ollie was practically rolling around on the ground. Their laughter fluttered around them, bouncing off the walls and breaking the monotony of pasty white, making the room somewhat bearable.

Nicola shuffled towards the almost empty bottle of spirits, still snickering; brow creased in concentration as she poured a generous splash on top of the remaining ice in her glass. She passed the bottle over to Ollie, “you know, when you’re not being a prat at work, you’re actually a decent human.”

“You’re not so bad when your face isn’t being glum or sour,” he smiled, a tad lopsided. “And I doubt your tits taste like vinegar. Can they even do that?” He appeared to seriously consider the possibility of the human body producing its own form of festered grapes.

“I highly doubt it.” She managed to keep a straight face. Just. _It would explain why I’m not getting any if they did._ “So is that porno an actual thing?” _Where the hell had that come from?_ She was drunk. _Oh, well, not like I have anything I_ need _to do tomorrow._ “That advisors thing you were talking about before; is there actually politically themed porn?” _Jesus, what?_ She was _definitely_ drunk.

“What?” Ollie chocked on his drink, his ears turning red. “I supposed there is,” he spluttered, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“I bet you own some,” she pushed his shoulder lightly, chuckling before she noticed the look on his face. “Oh, God, you do!” she shrieked as Ollie’s ear flush travelled over his face. “Come on, give us a look.”

“Give you a…Jesus, _no_!” He shrieked, exasperated and flailing all over the place.

“Oh, come on Ollie,” giggling through the gin. “Think of it as research for the best way to combat boredom. It’s not like there’s anything else to do in this shitty hotel. You never know, you might learn something,” she baited, a touch sing-song.

“Oh, like what?” he challenged, managing to find his feet via deep pan snark. “It’s my porn, I’ve already watched it.”

“So you have got some!” Nicola threw her head back with a laugh, gleeful and intoxicated.

“Yes, fine.” He shot her a death stare, vaguely aware that she was much closer than he’d thought she was a moment ago. “So how exactly am I going to learn something new from reused material? Are you going to teach me?”

“Maybe if you play your cards right,” Nicola purred, looking him dead in the eyes as she crawled towards him. She stopped; her knee just brushing his, fingers trailing up the seam of his trousers as her breast pushed against his arm. Ollie gaped as she shifted closer; pausing a few inches from his face, mint light breath ghosting across his lips: before leaning forward, grabbing his laptop and scurrying away with a howl of laughter.

She managed to plonk herself down on the bed and start scrying through his harddrive before Ollie regained the capacity to breathe again.

He jumped up, tripped over his own foot, fell onto end of the bed and bounced. Nicola erupted into another giggle fit as he swore; cursing his gangly limbs and their lack of uncooperativeness with his attempt to stop her before she started going through his files. For someone incredibly _not_ tech savvy, Nicola was a fast data searcher; she’d already managed to find his Star Wars themed folder.

He grabbed the laptop out of her spirits-slackened grip; holding it above his head as she jumped up and tried to grab it back. He retracted his complaints against his limbs as he managed to fend off her flailing hands long enough to flop backwards, drop the computer on the carpet, push it into the corner, and snap back up again.

Just in time to catch Nicola’s undignified scowl before she started tickling him.

“Jesus, fucking!” Ollie shouted. “No, Nicola!” his protests going unheeded as he writhed under Nicola’s surprisingly spry hands. He tried to bat her hands away, and failed miserably. Changing tactics, Ollie managed to weave his hand around her waist and obviously found a sweet spot. Nicola shrieked and tossed her head about; Ollie’s hand working furiously until he managed to grab hold of both of her wrists, just as Nicola tripped up over her own feet and pitched forward into Ollie.

They fell on the bed and bounced in a flurry of limbs and giggles.

“Got ya!” he growled with satisfaction; before realising the bed was much warmer than he’d have thought, and the Nicola’s face was incredibly close to his. And that she was staring at him with incredibly wide eyes, and he was gripping her wrists above her head. He was pinning her to the bed and one of her legs had ended up kinked around his hips.

It was also about this time Ollie mind caught up with his body, and he realised all the close physical contact had provoked a reaction from him. He was hard and pinning his boss to the bed. _Fuck_. He pulled away, beet red and muttering a string of apologies. “Shit, Jesus, I’m so sorry!” He could feel his entire future crumble under an assault charge. _Shitshitshit!_

He expected Nicola to start yelling at him, or shouting, or hitting him for being inappropriate, or overstepping their profession even-thought-we-were-on-some-down-time boundaries. He expected her to scream bloody murder, or start throwing things or maybe even get Malcolm involved.

He really hadn’t expected Nicola to tighten her leg; yanking him back on top of her and slamming her lips against his.

Ollie stiffened, shock rigouring his limbs, before melting into the warmth of her mouth. He relaxed his body against hers, hands skimming along the outlines of her curves as they sank into the pillows. She rocked her hips, bucking up against him as he palmed her breasts through her dress.

Nicola racked her nails up the nape of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair as she grounding against him. He groaned as she pulled and wrapped both her legs around his waist, shifting til she was in his lap. “Dress, get it off. Now,” she ordered as her hands started working on his buckle. Ollie fumbled with the zip, somewhat distracted but the hand making quick work of his fly, before giving up and yanking at the fabric till it parted itself. Nicola glared at Ollie: he just smirked, before pushing her back onto the bed and ripping her stocking off. She gasped as his hands delved under the grey material, bunching it around her hips as his teeth pulled it down to her waist.

His fingers fumbled through her knickers as he sucked on her neck: brushing against her clit, a tad hesitant and unsure. Nicola ground down, desperate for friction, pressure, fucking anything that would get her off. “No, not like that,” reaching between their bodies to redirect his hand. “Like that,” pushing his fingers inside her; slick and warm, altering the pressure of his thumb on her clit. “There,” she panted, “Yes, there.” She writhed against him, thigh pressed against his cock as he trailed a line of kisses across her collarbone.

“More,” she moaned as his teeth found a nipple through the lace of her bra. “More, God. Stretch me. Oh, _fuck_! ” her head fell back as he added another finger “Jesus, harder, _fuck_.” She groaned, quivering around his hand as he curled his fingers. She came with a shout, toes curling into the sheets.

“Well, that was educational,” Ollie grinned into the side of her neck, smug and self satisfied. Nicola huffed and straddled him.

“Plenty more where that came from.”

**Author's Note:**

> There is a posibility that I will edit the ending of this at a later stage; I had intended it to conclude differently, and then I electrocuted myself and really just wanted to get it finished so I could go too bed.


End file.
